(Aria)
The mansion was quiet that night, too quiet. The kind of silence that presses against your ears and makes every shadow feel alive. I had been reading in my room, trying to calm my nerves after the engagement party fiasco, when a distant sound made me freeze.
At first, it was subtle—a low rumble, almost like thunder, but there were no storms forecast. Then came the sharper sounds: glass breaking, footsteps pounding in the hallways, and muffled voices shouting in a language I didn’t fully understand.
My heart skipped, my pulse hammering. I knew immediately something was wrong. This wasn’t the usual quiet chaos of the Moretti mansion—it was deliberate, malicious.
I scrambled to the window and peered out, trying to make sense of the movement in the darkened gardens below. Shadows fl
